The Massacre of 2004
by Nicasa
Summary: Grissoms past comes back to haunt him when there is a massacre in his old home (you weren't supposed to know that yet) Read and find out more...
1. Default Chapter

"This is so stupid" Sara spat vehemently as they turned down a side street to take a shortcut to their crime scene

"What is?" Grissom asked, glancing over at her as he changed gears, trying to read her expression in the darkness that partially consumed them

"This case" she pointed out gesturing to the backseat where Nick was going over some hastily printed information on their victims

"Mass murder equals mass overtime right?" he grinned, trying to take the edge off her mood

"No. It's just that there's always someone left behind to bear the weight, to mourn and grieve for the people they've lost. This girl has just had her entire family slaughtered, so there's no one left. No one to tell her everything'll be fine, that they'll take care of her, that she'll be able to make it through another day. What has she got left now?"

"She has us," Grissom said simply, flicking on the indicator that would let other motorists know that they were turning left

"And multi-million-dollar-empire for one" Nick pointed out as the Tahoe pulled up outside a large and very fancy mansion-like apartment building, he got out with his field kit and whistled "man, you could fit my entire apartment block into the foyer"

"Really?" Grissom mused, "I didn't know you lived in a subway car"

"Okay, slight exaggeration on my part, maybe just the twelfth floor, but this place is like a palace" he stood at the bottom of the marble steps and looked up.

The building loomed above him like a giant stone monster, pale and gray, but not without personality. The front gardens were well lit and well kept, a fountain bubbling happily in the center, gravel drive sparkling like something silver had lit it up, roses clung to the front ten foot high black steel fence and an archway from the gate at the footpath sported the lush green foliage of a fruit vine.

Grissom and Sara stood beside him as Brass approached them, unsmiling, he stood and sighed heavily, his breath steaming in front of him.

"You got here quick" he commented, just for the sake of making conversation

"We took a short cut," Grissom told him

"I didn't think you'd been out this way that often"

"There's a lot you don't know about me," he said matter-of-factly "are we going to wait for the others?"

"Personally I think you should get started A.S.A.P." Brass nodded towards the door "If the press get a hold of this they're going to have a field day."

He led them up the stairs, past the uniformed guards and to the doors, with sarcasm dripping from every syllable he announced

"I give you, the massacre of 2004"

He pushed the heavy oak double doors aside and led them in, stopping on the edge of the deep blue carpet that lead off the polished marble floors

"According to the door man the West's and North's were having their annual double family reunion," Brass gestured behind him at their large crime scene "As far as he knew every one was present, except" he assumed a pompous air and attitude to match "for that poor old lady who lives in an old folks home and the couple who are skiing in the French alps" he dropped the unctuous tone "Josie, the teenager who called it in was the only one that survived, she's just up the stairs"

His voice fell on deaf ears as the three CSI 's surveyed the scene; there was almost thirty seconds of silence as their eyes took in the blood bath before them.

The elegant blue silk wall hanging that draped the wall behind the main table was no longer elegant. Nor did it resemble anything silky. Bullets had torn the expensive fabric into tatters and stained red with blood.

At least fifteen bodies lay scattered across the floor in varying stages of deformation. Some with single bullet wounds, others slashed apart by knives, or ripped to shreds by the force of the weapons used on them.

A man and a woman were huddled together in a corner for protection, the marble behind them did nothing to help, they died where they stood, a puddle of blood and flesh at their feet. The wall behind them riddled with bullet holes.

There was a teenage girl, sitting in her chair, a spear from one of the suits of armor near the door stabbed through her stomach, nailing her to the chair behind her. She bleed out with her desert untouched, sitting just in front of her.

A small table seating four children who'd been about to eat their desert off a starch white table cloth, now sat with their small bodies limp, their faces in their food, throats slit in the most unimaginable way possible. Pain etched in every last feature on their innocent faces.

A toddler lay on the main table, a steak knife through his tiny chest, eyes open, vacant and staring at nothing in particular.

They looked up and saw two men, dressed in black, faces painted to avoid having their identity known, hair sprayed black and wearing black leather gloves. One had his shoelaces tied to the balustrade, the strap of his rifle tangled around his neck, connecting him to the other black clothed man who had been hung above the party with the same rifle strap.

Another man, dressed identical to the first two had the bayonet of his rifle set deep in his throat, a dribble of blood streaking down his cheek and out of his ear. There was another one with his intestines blasted through a hole in his back, drooping over the body of a fifth gunman who was clutching a machine gun, a single shot to his forehead. A sixth was draped over a broken fish tank, the sharp glass almost severing his head from the rest of his body.

Dancers littered the dance floor, the music played on, though there were no bodies moving to its slow rhythm.

An ambulance officer sat on the balcony above them, soothing the blood stained teenager who sat beside her.

"Okay," Grissom cleared his throat "start from the front, Warrick" he addressed the man who'd just walked in followed by Catherine and Greg "I want multiple photo's of everything before we get started, the rest of you, bag and tag, you know the drill"

His team nodded silently and moved off. Grissom turned to Brass,

"Call swing, have them work this case with us, we need as much help as they can offer"

"What about the day shift?" Brass asked him quietly, knowing what the answer was, even before his colleague spoke

"We can survive without them, we might need a few more coroners called in too."

"Okay" Brass opened up his phone and walked out, firing rapid orders to the person at the other end

"Sara" Grissom beckoned her over "I know how much you'll hate me for this, but I want you to go and process the girl"

"Okay"

"Are you sure," a little bit of concern found its way through his calm façade

"Yeah, positive" if she was completely honest with herself she was glad to get away from the ground floor and make her way up the stairs to the two figures sitting there.

As she approached them the paramedic stood and met her half-way

"Jocelyn West" she said softly "wouldn't let us touch her until you got here, she was sitting there when we arrived and hasn't moved since"

"Thanks" the medic nodded and walked out the front door. Sara knelt in front of the girl

"Jocelyn?"

"Josie" the girl corrected, "or Jo"

"I'm Sara Sidle, I'm with the Vegas Crime Lab" she introduced herself

"I'm Jo West, my entire family was just slaughtered" Jo muttered ironically

"I know" Sara said softly looking over the thin form in front of her.

Two guns and an open cell phone lay at her side, along with a hunting knife, bathed in blood.

Her gray sweat pants were splattered with blood, a gaping hole in the knee and a red skid mark down the left hand side. The soles of her Nike shoes were colored to match, the ends of the laces soaked and heavy.

A sickening art work of dirt, food and blood was plastered all over her white singlet and her bare arms and hands were colored red, thick blotches at random intervals, signs that said she'd been part of the fray, and had tried to save her family afterwards.

Jo's face was pale, and a gash on her hairline was still oozing blood. Her ear length blonde hair was matted down with an unsightly mixture of blood, sweat and food.

Sara opened her kit and took out a handful of swabs and her camera.

"I'm going to need to collect some evidence and take some photo's" she told Josie "Is that O.K. with you?"

When Jo nodded her assent Sara began the painstakingly long task of photographing and swabbing every single bloodstain and spatter on her body, finally finishing her work after half an hour, when the first four bodies were moved out and sent to the morgue.

By that time swing had arrived and the heavy workload seemed to lift a little, there were hundreds, possibly thousands of projectiles to collect, every bullet counted.

Nick approached the two women,

"Uh, hey, I'm Nick Stokes," he introduced himself "Are these your weapons?"

"No, they belong to the person who left them here"

Nick picked them up and bagged them, thanking her for her help.

"Uh, can I get out of these clothes?" Josie asked Sara as she removed her shoes "I live up in the penthouse"

"Yeah, I'll have to go with you though," Sara told her "I'll need to ask you a few questions"

"Okay" Jo lead the way to the elevator and climbed in. Just as the doors were about to ding shut, a hand was thrust in and Grissom joined them

"You can't go up there alone" he told them (Sara in particular) "something could happen"

They rode up eight floors in silence, all facing the doors, each thinking their own thoughts.

They entered the penthouse silently, Jo stopped in the kitchen and turned to face them.

"Do you - want - these ---- bagged?" her words slowed as she recognized the man in front of her, dropping her shoes unintentionally on the clean tiled floor and leaving red marks where they landed "Gil?"

"Jo?"

Then simultaneously, as if in a weird cartoon both asked

"What the hell are you doing here?"


	2. revelations

**Thought I better add a disclaimer onto this chapter, considering I skipped it on the first...**

**As much as I'd love to say that I own CSI and all related products/biproducts what ever you want to call it, I have no claim to any of the charactors (except those of my own creation) or any of the technical jargon involved in the rest of this story (which I don't understand, and have absolutely no idea what I'm talking about half the time)**

this is a small segment of a convo between me and a freind

Me: Do you think there is a God?

Freind: Do you?

Me: What I think doesn't count

Freind: Yeah it does

Me: You'll just dissagree with me

Freind: Try me

Me: George is a GOD

(this is where I spill red paint on her white uniform while looking lonkgingly into space)

Freind: Yeah

(She doesn't notice coz she's too busy drooling over the pics of George Eads in her diary)

_any_way... back to the story

****

"What am I doing here?" Josie looked at him as though he'd suddenly sprouted an extra head "I've lived here ever since I was fourteen, this is my home, what the fuck are you doing here?"

"Work" he said simply, not sure of how to handle her reaction "Crime Lab"

"You mean you've been in Vegas all this time and you never, not once decided to call" she took a calming breath, picked up her trainers and shoved them into the evidence bag that was frozen in Sara's hands as she looked on, her confusion evident "you didn't even bother to let us know you were here?"

"I'm sorry" he maintained eye contact, watching as her lips formed a thin line and her jawline worked up and down, dry blood beginning to flake, as she ground her teeth in an effort to control herself, "I meant to call..."

"No you didn't" her voice rose slightly and she spat out every word as though it was made of poison "Mark and Kayley took us in after you ran off, you never had _any _intention whatsoever of returning, not even to say goodbye. and now" she gestured towards her clothes "you turn up when they're all gone, they're all dead, there's _no-one_ left now Gil" she took a step away from him as her put a hand out to calm her, her voice dropping to a controlled whisper "they weren't on the floor were they?"

"Who?" Griss hesitated, not sure if the question she'd asked was a rhetorrical one or not

"Jason, Chris, Dale and Michael don't tell me you forgot about them too?" she looked at him, a calm, cool masked expression on her face, her lips quirking into a thin lipped Grissom-like smile, only she made it look more like a snear

"no you didn't did you? you thought you'd be able to forget about us" she made her way backwards toward the nearby closet and opened the door, looking between the two investigators "I'm sorry to tell you this Miss Sidle"

"Josie" Gil put an arm out to her, warning her to stop

"but the Gil Grissom that you think you know"

"don't" he began to walk towards her as Sara stood, gaping like a goldfish

"you will never understand" Jo dissapeared into the closet and closed the door with a snap

Sara heard Grissom swear under his breath as he ran to the door and yanked it open, having time only to see a pair of bloodstained feet dissapear through a hole in the wall and the unmistakable arm of a teenage boy snake out and close the secret 'trap' door, hearing it secure as though it was air-locked.

"Damnit!" Grissom pounded on the section of the wall that Josie had dissapeared into "Josie open up" he slammed his fist into the wall several more times before pressine his palm against the middle of the 'door', hearine Sara's sharp intake of breath when it glowed purple and a keypad showed up, the words ENTER CODE, flashing continuosly accross the screen.

"6-6-2-3-5-1-9-4-1-6-0" he muttered, punching in the eleven digit code only to have the screen flash back an angry ACCESS DENIED signal

"Grissom, what the hell is going on?" Sara stuttered, finnaly finding her voice and speaking up

"Just a young freind of mine" he told her sarcastically, trying again, '0-6-1-4-9-1-5-3-2-6-6' and cursing when the machine began mocking him with TRY AGAIN...

"Who was the boy?" she asked, reffering to the blonde haired rebellious looking teen who'd help Josie get away

"Josie's older brother, Jason" he told her absentmindedly, still punching in codes and swearing at the insults the machine repeatedly threw back at him...

I FART IN YOUR GENERAL DIRECTION...

YOUR MOTHER WAS A HAMPSTER

"How many kids are in there?"

"They're not just kids" Grissom kept punching in codes, YOUR FATHER SMELT OF ELDERBERRIES, displayed itself to him "Chris West is twenty-two and spent three years in the Marines before he came back here, Craig North was part of his team, they're cousins."

"Gee, between them they have half a compass" Brass said dryly, entering the room unanounced and giving Grissom a wierd look "What are you doing in the closet?"

"Our whitness just locked herself in" Gil answered, I BLOW MY NOSE AT YOU, flashing up in front of him "and they've changed all the codes"

"So those weren't just random numbers?" Brass asked showing a hint of his old self now that he was away from the ground floor

Grissom gave him a withering look

"No, they weren't" he knocked politely on the door "what are you doing up here anyway?"

"You called me" Brass said looking between the two CSI's "About thirty seconds ago, you told me to come up here, didn't give me a reason though"

"He didn't call you" Sara told Brass bewildered,

"Then who did?" Brass turned back to Grissom who started to bash on the wall again

"CHRIS" he yelled "THAT'S NOT FUNNY!" he paused for a second then reached up above his head, opened a shoe box and pulled out a radio

"How'd he know that was there?" Brass asked Sara quietly as they stood back and watched

"Beats me" she shrugged back, shaking her head as Griss stood on top of the counter and started to unscrew a lightbulb "What are you doing now?" she asked, fearing for his sanity

"LEAVE IT GIL"

Grissom froze and jumped off the bench top with a surprising amount of agility, making his way over to the concealed door again, he sat down beside it and turned on the radio

"Still on channel three Chris?" he said into the speaker

The voice crackled through the radio as well as through the strategically spaced speakers all throughout the appartment, making Brass and Sara jump simultaniously

"AS ALWAYS OLD MAN"

Grissom laughed and held the speaker up to his mouth

"Why'd you lock your-selves in there?" he asked "Do you have something to hide?"

"WE AREN'T HIDING ANYTHING"

"Then why don't you come out?"

"IS IT ABSOLUTELY NECCESSARY"

"It would make you look innocent for a start" Grissom leant his head back up against the wall and waited for a response

"FORGET THE CODE DID YOU"

"No, you changed it" Grissom laughed into the radio "are you afraid to come out?"

His challenge was met with silence, so he counted,

one mississippi,

two mississippi,

three mississippi,

four mississippi,

right up to thirty before the air-lock was opened and the lanky, jet black haired 25 year old emerged from the 2' by 2' hole. the door hissing shut behind him as Jason closed it again.

There was only one word that could be used to describe his appearence, and that was

Punk

He had daggy black cargo pants on with a polished silver chain hanging out of his pocket, his torso bore a tattered black singlet with the word blasphemy written accross the front in silver letters, his hair was gelled into spikes and he had a black tattoo accross his right wrist. On closer inspection, one would see that it was a segment of a chain. Two whole links and two half links running off the side of his arm, the borders made up of a repitition of six words

- united - strength - freedom - agility - speed - courage -

"We didn't do it" Chris told him, glancing over at the other two, "we tried to stop them"

"I know" Gil told him.

The two men stood there, staring at each other, each trying to figure out what the other was thinking, finally, Chris thrust out his hand

"Let by-gons be by-gons?" he asked, muscular hand held steadily for Grissom to shake

"Then by-gons they shall be" Griss took the hand offered to him and shook it, an unstated agreement passing between the two of them, an air of something noble just being passed

"I don't suppose you still have yours?" Chris asked, indicating the tattoo on his own wrist

"Yes, and it's a bitch of a thing to hide every night" he rolled up a sleeve and vigorously rubbed at the skin on his right arm, a tattoo, identical to Chris' was soon visible, the black half-links joining perfectly when their wrists were aligned

Chris laughed and deftly keyed in the correct 11 digit code to open the secret door, Jason crawled out, closely followed by Dale, another guy that Sara assumed was Michael and Josie brought up the rear, most traces of blood gone, wearing a fresh pair of black full length cargo pants and a black Kevlar vest peaking out of the gray shirt on her torso, making her look like a mini-comando

"Kevlar?" she asked amazed

"What never seen a bullet proof vest before?" Josie asked her rudely

"Jo" Chris warned her with a look and a slight shake of his head

She frowned at him in response and pretended she hadn't heard, scratching at the dried blood on her wrists, a tattoo, the same as the two already seen, was finaly visible through the blood, she saw Sara staring at it and promptly shoved her hands into her pockets.

"Sorry about that," Chris apologised with a shrug "rough night"

"I understand" Sara told him, feeling slightly uncomfortble

"I'm sorry too" Josie smiled, her eyes still betraying the fact that she wasn't happy with the situation "yes I wear kevlar all the time, my Snake Skin's currently out of order though, got a little shot up during the cross-fire"

"Snake Skin?" Grissom asked

"Kevlar vest made out of heaps of one inch square pieces of kevlar and linked together using a tough alloy, even though it's got three layers, it's still lighter and not as visible as other models are so you can wear it under your clothes, kinda moulds to your body when you put it on"

For a few seconds every thing was silent, an onlooker could stick their tongue out and almost taste the tenseness in the air it was that thick. The silence was so absolute that the ticking of several watches could be heard, endlessly ticking, never stopping...

"Listen, I'm sorry to break up the party but, we have a crime scene to process" Brass broke the revire "anything you guys could tell us about what happened would help a lot"

"We can do one better" Dale piped up proudly "we have it all on tape"

"All on tape?" Brass asked increadiously

"Yeah," Dale disapeared for a few seconds before re-appearing with over a dozen tapes in his posession "we have one of the most extensive private security systems in vegas, every inch of this place is covered with several views to chose from" he offered the said tapes to Sara "All controlled in the red room, it's an awesome set-up, come back later and check it..."

"Dale shut-up" Jason and Josie snapped at the same time, both sounding equally irritated

"I ain't going nowhere" Jo shot at Grissom

"specially not with you" Jason finished for her, an identical look of contempt on his face

Another lengthy silence greeted them as Grissom frowned slightly, the image mirrored on the two teenagers, both with blue eyes, thin lips and blonde hair.

Sara had noticed the similarities in the way they walked, how they used their hands when they spoke. When Jo had smiled, it was the same thin-lipped cute and quirky smile that Grissom had, even though she made it look more like a snarl then anything else. Suddenly something clicked in her brain and she gasped out loud, realisation hitting her head on like a train.

"They're your children!" she blurted out in astonishment

Now it was Brass' turn to look confused, his gaze wandered between the group of people, searching for answers, Chris laughed and Craig smiled in spite of himself,

"No way lady" he indicated himself and his cousin, "we're not"

"But they are" Chris managed to choke out eventually, pointing to the two teens, obviously thinking that the fact that Grissom had children was a riot

"I thought they were in Charleston with their mother" Brass looked to Grissom

"So did I" Griss muttered back

"Does it look like we're in Charleston, _dad" _

_AN sorry about there being no forensics in this chapter... i know that the dialogue runs on a bit, but I couldn,t help myself _

**Ch. 3 coming soon**

**please read and review, **

**heres a snap shot of next chapter**

* * *

****

"Our mother died when I was four, Jase was five" Jo told her wrinkling her nose, "some crazy asshole shot her in a drug bust, we ran away before they put us in foster care like they did with the others"

"Her boyfreind took us in, moved back to Vegas, got us involved in a gang, thats where we grew up"

"Mincing meat with the devils underlords"


End file.
